Reader's Dilemma
by Jackal Antern XIII
Summary: A reader of the Harry Potter books wakes up in Harry's body. What is this poor man to do? Why, kick ass of course.
1. Brave New World  Not

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter franchise.

"Normal speech"

_Thought_

_Perseltongue_

_

* * *

_

The first thing I was aware of when I woke up was the discomfort of being cramped in a small space. The next thin I noticed was hunger. Looking back on my memories, I concluded that I must not have eaten in at least a week to feel this hungry. Finally, I opened my eyes.

Everything was blurry, which I found strange as I had near perfect vision. Rubbing my eyes, the blurring did not change. Feeling around a bit, I can tell that I am in a small room, barely enough to contain me. Feeling a bit higher, I find a shelf. On the shelf I feel what I think are glasses. Picking them up I try them on. The world becomes more clear, but not as clear as I am used to. I look at my surroundings.

I am in a cupboard under the stairs. My eyes widen, this sounds familiar.

"Shit" I mutter. _Am I in the world of Harry Potter?_ I ask myself.

Looking at myself I am shocked. I'm a kid again. Scars I knew I had are no longer there, and I find scars I knew I never had, like that one on my forehead. _Yep, here I be, Harry Potty._

Then I hear it. Someone is walking down the stairs. It's Petunia. I bet you are wondering how I can tell, well, the house isn't shaking, that's how.

"Up! Get up! Now!" came the shriek from the woman as she banged on the door of my "room". Looking down, I see that I am clothed, if you can call what I am wearing clothes.

_More like rags._ I think.

"Up!" was her last demand.

Sighing, I rolled to the door and got out of "bed", which, now that I can see it in the light, is a cot, with several large, dark stains scattered about it. Looking down, I see my feet clad in sanctified socks, in that they are holey. Looking into the cupboard I see a pair of beat up "trainers" I remember them being called. Pulling them on and closing the door, I begin my trek to what I think is the kitchen.

As I approached, the door in front of me opened to reveal a truly horse-faced woman. Now, I had thought that the books had just been exaggerating her appearance, but damn, she looks like Mr. Ed's sister.

_Hehe, _I mentally snicker, careful to keep my amusement off of my face. _A horse is a horse, of course of course._

"Oh, you're up are you boy? Well mind the bacon. I want everything to be perfect on Duddy's birthday." she commands as she walks off, apparently to wake the birthday boy.

Walking through the door, I see a sterile kitchen, devoid of live or emotion, the only thing out of place is the package laden table. Birthday presents for the pink pig. Shrugging, I walk over to the stove and begin to "mind the bacon," when it is to the point I like it, at a balance of crunch and chewy. After the bacon was done, I set it aside on a napkin covered plate to absorb the extra grease. Moving over to the sink I pour out the grease. I then moved back to the stove to start up some eggs.

Vernon had arrived just as I began the eggs. As he sat at the table and opened his paper he glanced over at me.

"Comb your hair!" he ordered. That reminded me of my new features. Where I used to look like a member of the Weasley family, I now had uncontrollable black hair and bright green eyes to replace my former grey-blue. Looking at my skin tone, I wonder why I am so pale. I know this body was forced to work outdoors for long hours, so why did it not have some sort of tan. Then it hit me. Malnutrition must have sapped this body of the proper nutrition to give it that healthy "glow."

As I set the bacon and eggs in some of the little available space on the table, the remainder of this grotesque family walked in. Dudley, the porker, did look remarkably like a swine, the only missing features were hooves, a tail, and the snout. As I knew the outcome of this encounter I wolfed down my bacon and eggs, the measly portion that I had. Having finished my "meal" before it took Dudders to count to twenty, I grabbed my plate and cutlery and moved to begin washing it, listening to the dialogue going on behind me.

Silently laughing at the horrible math skills that Dudley showed for his age, I moved about picking up the empty dishes to clean them. After I finished my task and the table was void of dishes, I stood by the sidelines, waiting for the situation to play itself out. As porker opened his presents, the phone rang.

_There goes Figg, calling in her broken leg. And here comes the nag with the happy news._

"Bad news Vernon." hearing that I zone out, waiting for my cue.

"She's on vacation in Majorca." and there it was.

"You could leave me here." I suggest meekly.

"And come back to find the house in ruins?" snarled Nag.

"I won't blow up the house." I said, knowing they weren't listening but staying in role.

"I suppose we could take him to the zoo," said Nag, ". . . and leave him in the car. . ."

_Oh no bitch, I will not be staying in any car for hours on end._

"The car's new, he's not sitting in it alone. . ."

_Wait, new car? How can they afford it? With all the things they shower upon Pig, they should barely afford the bills, yet they can afford a new car. They must be receiving outside funds. Or at least those that are illegally gained._

During my thoughts, Pig's friend Piss Polkiss had arrived. Now that everything was decided, we were on our way.

As we were driving on the way to the zoo, I kept my eyes out the window, searching for landmarks and Charing Cross Road specifically, where lay the entrance to Diagon.

Once we arrived, it being a warm and sunny saturday, Pig and Piss got ice cream, and, thankful to the observant vendor who noticed that they had only gotten two of three children ice cream, I got a lemon ice pop. I was glad because it was sour, not that weak stuff you normally get.

As we walked through the zoo, I was reviewing what biology I knew and was wondering what the Dursley family would be classified as. I determined that while they were chordates, they were not cephilized.

As we finally arrived at the reptile house, the focus of the trip in my opinion, I was determined to gain some control over my ability to speak parsel, if I could at all.

Beginning in a corner and making sure to stay out of the Dursley's and Polkiss' sight, I began to test my tongue.

"Hello, can you hear me?" I said in a low voice. The snake payed me no attention. Concentrating a bit harder on the snake, a rat snake, I spoke again.

Hello, can you hear me? I said, and felt something different in the way I said it. It still sounded like english to me, but it felt different in my mouth ant throat. Apparently I was right as the snake looked up at me sharply.

You can speak the tongue? Ha, and to think I had thought it a myth. Well, in this case I am glad to be proven wrong. So tell me speaker, why are you here?

I am practicing my ability. I only recently learned I could speak to snakes and was hoping to gain some control over this gift. After all, if I were to speak your tongue whenever in the presence of a serpent, I would be cast into an asylum. I reply, hiding some of the truth.

Ah, understandable. So why did you choose to speak to me? I am sure some of the other snakes would me more interesting to you?

For that very reason. You see, those who I came with are not kind to me. They force me to work and bare burdens that should not be mine, and to add insult to injury, they do not feed me enough to fuel one a third my size. Not only that, if anything goes wrong around them, I am immediately the one they blame. So I chose one of the snakes in an out of the way place where I could stay out of their sight as I practiced.

These beasts truly treat you like this? The snake asked, to which I answered positively, Then let them be cursed. I do not fault your reasoning in this. Are all humans this way?

No, these are just ignorant and afraid. After all, you fear what you don't understand. If I were to let someone know how I was treated, they would be punished. But if I wait a little bit, I might be able to get them an even greater punishment.

Ah, devious aren't you? Very well, thank you for adding something interesting to my day, now go to others and practice. The more varied your experiences the better you learn.

Thank you and good bye for now. I say as I walk off. Moving to another snake, I test out my ability and am rewarded with an angry retort for interrupted sleep. Shrugging I move on. Thinking that I may be able to talk to reptiles other than snakes, I move in to a legless lizard, hoping that it's resemblance to its cousin will help.

Hello?

What? Can't you tell i'm napping here? People these days, so rude. Came my reply. Oh well, at least that is progress. Moving on to a gecko I begin again.

Hello.

Hey, how ya doin'? How can you speak to me, huh? Can you speak toother animals too? Can you speak to bugs? Or birds, how 'bout birds? the gecko rambled on endlessly. Shrugging, I moved on. So I can talk to lizards too, what else?

By the time we left, I had determined that I could talk to all reptiles and some bugs, though that might just be because they did or didn't want to talk. After the reptile house, we wandered around for a little more, as the debacle from the book hadn't happened. I tried talking to a few more animals. They were mostly failures, though I was able to talk to a few felines. I guess I can talk to anything that hisses. Or it might just be that I can talk to all animals and it just hasn't fully developed yet. Mentally shrugging, I follow the group back to the car. As we are driving back to Privet drive I begin to plan what moves I am going to take. I have to find ways to get information before I can act, because if I act on information that I haven't learned here, I might raise suspicion.

And so, I passed the time doing what I could to prepare myself for what was coming. And, when I got tired of that, I amused myself any way I could. My two favorites were thinking up derogatory and insulting things about the dursleys, the other was trying to squeeze out some magic.

School was murder. I had t pretend to be dumb, I hated that. During recess, I tried to stay in clear view of any adult around so I could avoid "harry hunting" and other such activities. Sometimes, when I got bored of watching the sky, I would exercise. Pullups, crunches, pushups, anything to improve my strength, because I knew I would need everything I had to survive this life.

* * *

Well, how did you like it.


	2. To Diagon, The Ministry, and Gringotts

Hey, i just revised some mistakes, filled some holes and stuff like that.

Disclaimer, see Chapter 1

* * *

"Normal"

_Thought_

**_Spell

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_**

Summer hols had started. My days were spent primarily outside, either doing manual labor or spending as much time away from the Dursleys as possible. I spent my time waiting for the letter trying to figure out what I remembered about the stock market so that I could make some easy money. Something strange I noticed recently is that I was starting to think of this as my life, my new life. In my old life, I was practically bored to death daily, and I had always wished for something more. Well, now I had it. Another strange thing that started happening the second week after the summer holiday started was that I was starting to remember Harry's life before my appearance in his head.

The day of the letter, as I had begun to refer to it as, finally arrived. I had prepared a response letter already, asking for an escort the following weekend as my "family" was too busy at the moment. I tried to make it sound believable. I think I did a rather nice job with it too. When I walked into the kitchen that morning, and saw Nag at the stove working at something that stunk up the room. I knew she was working on my "uniform" for Stonewall High. Walking back to the cupboard, I grabbed my ready made letter and hid it in my baggy shirt. Sitting at the table I waited for the mail. As I heard the mail slot on the door clap shut and the dull thump of the mail hitting the mat I waited for my cue.

"Get the mail Dudley." said Walrus.

"Make Harry get it." said Pig.

"Get the mail Harry." said Walrus. So, I went to get the mail. Coming to the door, I saw something fortuitous, something had caught in the mail flap and looked like it might fall back outside. I helped it along. So, I picked up the mail on the mat, quickly finding my letter and hiding it, and I opened the door.

"Boy, what are you doing?" came the call from Walrus.

"Something fell outside uncle." said I.

"Then go get it boy."

So I did. As I was outside, I quickly scanned my surroundings. There, on the power-line was an owl. Holding up my arm as a perch I motioned the owl down. As it landed on my outstretched arm I brought my letter up.

"Would you please bring this to professor Macgonagall." I asked. It never hurts to be polite, even if it is to an animal.

The owl bobbed its head, almost nodding, gave a short hoot, grabbed the letter in its beak, and flew off.

"Mission accomplished." said I. I walked back into the overly normal house, grabbing the errant letter on the way, and closed the door.

"Where's the mail Boy?"

"Right here uncle." I say as I hand him the post.

* * *

**That Saturday**

I woke early that morning. More than an hour before anything else in the house would be stirring. I prepared myself for the day. Grabbing my rucksack and filling it with everything I had that was worth taking, which admittedly wasn't much. About twenty minutes later, after I had helped myself to a hearty breakfast without the Dursleys knowledge, There was a light knock at the door. My escort I believed.

Opening the door I saw a woman that appeared to be in her twenties. But, if she was magical, she could easily be forty.

"Yes?" I asked.

"Hello, I am Prof. Septima Vector here to escort Mr. Potter." she announced herself.

"I am Harry. Perhaps we should get going." I suggest.

"What of your guardians?" she asked, seeming curios.

"If you would pardon my language. They don't give a rat's ass about me." I say, and deciding to wing it a bit I continue, "Here, if you will be quiet I will show you my bedroom. That might give you an idea. And please, no outburst. I plan on pressing charges." I say as I lead her inside.

"What do you mean, pressing charges? What have they done?" she said quietly.

Keeping quiet, I head to the cupboard and, holding my finger to my lips and making the classic shushing sound/gesture, I open the door.

Looking inside Prof. Vector lets out a gasp as she sees the bloodstained cot and a few pairs of ratty clothes. An instant later she is a raging inferno and looks to make a bull rush up the stairs. I grab her arm and shush her again.

"Come on, let's go. I have everything of mine worth taking in my bag." I whisper, motioning to the rucksack hanging from my shoulder. "Could you make it so that no one can get in until the bobbies or whatever you call your law enforcement people get here to look at it? I need all the evidence I can to get the Dursleys put away for life in the worst place that can be found. Alright?" I suggest. She nods before turning to the now closed cupboard.

**Coloportis** she whispers, motioning with he wand at the door. There is a squelching sound as the door is sealed.

As we leave the house, I see her let off a controlled hiss.

_Man she must have been pissed._

"Alright, so now you see why I am pressing charges." I say as we begin walking to the park nearby. "For the last ten years I have been treated as some sort of slave. Being forced to do everything they required while receiving minimal care. I am probably suffering from malnutrition as a result of being fed a third to a fourth of what I should have been. Not only that, I have been required to make myself out to be less intelligent than their son at school. The last time I got higher grades than their son my arm was broken in two places and several ribs were broken. I was then shoved into the cupboard bruised and bleeding. Thankfully my magic took it upon itself to heal me." I summed up my treatment by the Dursleys in the time I had spent with them.

"And why didn't you want me to confront them?" Vector asked.

"I don't want anything to jeopardize them being found guilty and I didn't want you to get in trouble for it." I say, "Plus, they will get much worse later. I hear that in jail the child abusers get the worst of it. Even the murderers get better treatment. So, do you see where I am going with this?"

"Yes, I see." She said, going silent.

"So, how are we getting where we are going?" I ask, already having a few guesses.

"We will be taking the Knight bus." she said, "It is something like the magical taxi."

"Ah," so she has some knowledge of the Mundane world.

"To summon it, just stick out your wand hand and it will appear with a bang." she said before demonstrating.

BANG

"A literal bang, nice." I mutter loudly enough to hear, but leaving Stan Shunpike ignorant.

We get on and she pays our fare and announces our destination.

"The Leaky Cauldron, right." said Stan, "Take 'er away Ern." he shouts to the driver.

BANG

* * *

**Leaky Cauldron**

"What a ride. That felt like riding a bucking bronco." I said as I rested with my hands on my knees.

"Yes, it is not for the faint of heart." commented Vector.

"Well, let's get this show on the road." I say, "Should we go shopping first or should we bury the Dursleys first?" I ask.

"The latter." she states amusedly.

"Right, tally ho then." I say jokingly, "Lead on my fair lady."

Walking into the Cauldron we pass a few of the early morning patrons. I am not surprised that not many wizards rise before seven. As we enter the alley behind the Cauldron, Vector points out which bricks to tap with your wand to enter Diagon Alley. She gives me a bit of a rundown on what is in the alley as we walk through the newly formed archway. The only new thing I really learned was the entrance to the ministry near Gringotts that doubled as an Auror outpost. She also explained what an Auror was though I already knew.

As we walk through the alley I keep a facade of the amazed youth as I take a detailed survey of my surroundings. There aren't many here. In fact, I am the only one under twenty.

As we entered the Ministry we made our way to the check-in station.

"Wand and reason for visiting please." asked the man behind the desk.

"Visiting the DMLE to report a serious crime." said Vector as she hands over her wand.

"And the boy?" asked the man.

"The victim. He does not yet have a wand." she replied.

"First year?" he asked, having now recognized the professor, as he returned her wand.

"Yes." she said as she continued through the lobby. I followed.

As we entered the lift she began to give me a rundown of the departments in each floor.

"So, who are we meeting with?" I ask.

"An old friend of mine, Amelia Bones." she said. I knew who this was but I had to play innocent.

"Is she an Auror?" I ask.

"Something like that." she says. I can hear the humor hidden in her voice.

Arriving at the appropriate floor we head through to an office with the name 'Amelia Bones, DMLE' inscribed on it. Vector knocked.

"Yes?" came the muffled reply, "Come in."

Vector walked in with me following in her shadow.

"Ah, Septima. To what do I owe the pleasure?" asked Amelia.

"I doubt you will find this visit to be a pleasure." said Vector solemnly. "I arrived at a new student's house to see him ready to run away with me, bag in hand. And I asked of his guardians. He said they, and I quote 'didn't give a rat's ass about him.'" said Vector.

"So," said Amelia, "what happened next?" she asked, writing everything down in a notepad.

"He led me inside to show me his bedroom. It was the bloody cupboard under the stairs. Before he opened it he had cautioned me to be quiet so as to not awake his sleeping tormentors, my words not his. His bed, if it could even be called that, had several large bloodstains on it and around the rest of the cupboard were strewn various broken toys and several sets of clothes that might as well have been rags. He said that he had everything worth bringing in his bag, which was practically empty. He stopped me from storming up the stairs and cursing those beasts for several reasons he later explained. He said he didn't want me to get in trouble and that he didn't want anything to get in the way of those beasts getting what they deserve. He went on to summarize his life in that place. Saying that he was required to do manual labor daily, that he was probably suffering from malnutrition, and that he was beaten for things he should have been praised for. The example he used was when he achieved higher grades than those people's son, he said he received a seriously broken arm and several broken ribs." here she sighed. "He has been put through too much for his age." she finished, shaking her head.

"Alright, Septima. Just give me the details and I will have some aurors go and pick them up." she requested.

"The residence is number four Privet Drive in the Little Whinging district of Surry."

"And the name of the boy and the abusers?" asked Amelia.

"They are Vernon, Petunia, and their son Dudley Dursley," I said, stepping from Vector's shadow. "and my name is Harry Potter."

"Fuck." said Amelia.

"Exactly." agreed Vector.

"Hey, Prof. Vector, what does 'fuck' mean?" I ask innocently while in my head I am laughing maniacally.

**2 Hours Later**

"Thanks for the tea Aunt Amelia." I say as I wave childishly back through the door as we're leaving.

"It was no problem Harry, come and visit me anytime." said the newly dubbed Aunt Amelia as she stood at her office door.

As Vector and I were making our way back to the Alley I began to hum that song from Wizard of Oz. Not over the rainbow, but the one where the main portion of the lyrics is 'we're off to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard of Oz.'

"So, What's next?" I ask.

"Gringotts."

"Good, I want to check on something."

"What?" asked Vector, curios.

"Well, I can't figure out how my uncle could afford the lifestyle he lived so I was wondering if he was getting a stipend for housing me all these years. Well, either that or he was stealing from someone." I said as I added a skip to my hum routine.

"That was rather well thought out, Harry. What made you think that?"

"Well, Vernon gets himself a new car every two years, they shower gift upon gift on their precious Dudley, and they both eat enough a week to feed a small village. Plus, with Vernon's job being just a mid-level manager of a drill manufacturing company, he should barely afford the house payments if they kept eating at the pace they do, and that is without the biannual car and the rain of presents." I state, "you also have to take into account that all of the presents added together usually end up with enough to by a car every other year. You do the math."

"So, how do you think they get the money?" asked Vector.

"Well, my parents will might contain a clause that contains an annual or a monthly stipend for my care if certain provisions are met. I doubt the Dursleys meet any of them. Next, whoever put me there could be doing the same thing. In that scenario, I wonder why they never checked up on me to see if I was doing alright? Third scenario, they are being paid to mistreat me by the person who put me there and I want to find out who." he said finally as they neared Gringotts.

Asking Vector if she had my key, to which I receive a negative reply, I walk up to the first available teller.

"Excuse me Honored Goblin."

"What do you want Wizard?" asked the teller, speaking the word wizard like an epitaph.

"I have some questions about any accounts I may hold in this bank and was wondering if you could direct me to my manager, or if I do not have a manager could you direct me to a general vault manager." I state. This seems to have earned a bit of the goblin's respect and interest.

"Your name young Wizard?" he asked, 'wizard' no longer sounding like a curse.

"Harry Potter." I state. The tellers eyes go wide before narrowing slightly.

"Can you verify this?"

"I have only my word, the word of my escort, and the blood running through my veins."

"Then we shall test your blood then, shall we?" said the goblin, bringing a device from under his desk and setting it atop the desk. "Merely press your finger against the depression and this device will draw your blood and test it. I warn you, if you are not who you say you are you will be arrested as a thief."

"No worries then." I say, pushing my left index finger into the spot mentioned. I feel a sharp prick to the finger before I feel as if the devise is drawing blood into itself.

The goblin looked at some characters in a language I had no clue of and nodded.

"You are who you say." he says, before shouting for another goblin, "Griphook."

I laugh mentally at the meeting. When Griphook arrived the teller addressed him.

"Bring Mr Potter to his manager. Alone" added the teller, seeing Vector trying to follow.

"This way Mr. Potter." said Griphook as he walked away. I followed closely, waving goodbye to Vector.

I was led through several hallways before we reached a door with the name 'Potter' inscribed into it. Griphook knocked. There was a reply in what I guessed was Gobbledygook.

"I bring Mr Potter who wishes to speak of his accounts." answered Griphook in English, no doubt for my benefit.

"Enter." came the reply. With that, Griphook left.

Opening the door, I walked in.

"Mr. Potter, what a surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure." asked the goblin. On the desk was a nameplate that read Snarlgrip.

"Honored Snarlgrip, I have only recently been made aware of the magical world and that my parents even had anything to leave me. So, if you would be so kind as to run me through the last ten years of my account activity." I ask.

"Well Mr Potter, this is somewhat troubling." said the goblin. "At the age of eight you were to receive a package. One that thankfully has been charmed to only be opened by you and with a locator beacon. So, let us find that, shall we?"

"We shall." I reply as he whites out a request on a slip of parchment before placing it in his outbox. A moment later a different slip appears in his in box, grabbing it, he read it aloud.

"The package is in Scotland, Hogwarts to be exact." said the goblin. "It seems that it was sent to your magical guardian Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore."

"And how did he come to be my magical guardian?" I ask. Snarlgrip pulls a file from his desk.

"It appears that he appointed himself your guardian, after sealing your parents wills." he said, humming to himself.

"Is it possible to unseal the wills?"

"Yes, as you are now here." he says, writing out another request and receiving the requested items.

"If you would, please read just the portions dealing with my placement." I request.

"I, James Charlus Potter, declare this my last will, yadda, yadda, yadda, guardianship of my son is to go to one of the following in descending order of preference. Firstly, Harry's godfather, Sirius Black. Second, his Godmother, Alice Longbottom. Third, Remus Lupin. Fourth, Amelia Bones. Fifth, Professor Minerva Macgonagall. Under no circumstance is Harry to be placed into the care of either Albus Dumbledore or Petunia Dursley nee Evans." said Snarlgrip before turning to read over Lily's will. "This will reads the same. So, it would seem that Dumbledore deliberately went against the contents of these wills." he finished, again humming to himself.

"Not only did he make himself my guardian, he foisted me of into the oh so loving arms of Petunia Dursley, who is at this moment being charged with child abuse." I add. "So, what can we do in this situation?"

"We can do little to Dumbledore himself, he is to Politically powerful. But we can probably get your guardianship transferred to Amelia Bones or Minerva Macgonagall."

"If you can, have it transferred to Amelia. If not, please push for emancipation." I request, "now, if we are done with that, can we have that package retrieved, and can we look over the account history?"

"I have already sent for the package to be repossessed, so let us begin with the account history." he said, retrieving for a ledger from one of the desk's drawers before flipping through it. "It appears that there have been two monthly payments and one annual payment being made. One monthly payment of 250 galleons, at a one to five conversion rate to pounds to the account belonging jointly to Vernon and Petunia Dursley amounting to 3000 galleons or 15000 pounds annually The second monthly is to the amount of 500 galleons to the account of one Severus Snape. And the annual withdrawal goes to the account of Dumbledore which essentially empties your trust vault, leaving only six galleons, five of which are then payed to us for upkeep. Your trust vault is refilled to 20000 at the beginning of every fiscal year. One week after the annual withdrawal and one week before the next monthly."

"That is it?" I ask, trying to stay calm.

"Yes, your other vault are under lock and key until you are an adult by whatever means."

"Alright, what can we do to make these bastards pay?" I ask, a wolves grin spreading across my face.

"I think this is the beginning of a beautiful partnership Mr Potter." said Snarlgrip with a matching grin, made all the more terrifying by the display of rather sharp teeth.

"Please, call me Harry." I say, still grinning, "We are partners after all."

"Indeed."

* * *

So, how'd you like it?


	3. Dealings at Gringotts

So, chapter three, yay.

See Disclaimer on Chapter 1

* * *

"Normal"

_Thought_

**

* * *

Gringotts, Snarlgrip's Office**

"So, now that we have determined what money has been stolen from me and by whom, let us find out what else has been taken from me." I grin out, plans of revenge forming in my head.

_I wonder what the comparative acerbic qualities of basilisk venom are versus sulfuric acid. Perhaps I should test this by dunking one leg each of a certain Greasy Git into vats of each._

"Well, Mr Potter, this ledger should contain a listing of every item, stock or share, property, contract, or even debts owed the family." said Snarlgrip, "Though the item list is likely not a full account, it should hold all items of monetary, emotional, magical, or historical value. So, while it might not contain a listing for your father's socks, it will contain his Auror's uniform and the robes he wore to his wedding."

"Perfect, can we go about finding out where these items are?" I ask, "this will no doubt take a while, so why not turn to another topic. There were some other names mentioned in my list of possible guardians, what happened to them?" I ask, knowing the answer.

"Well, in reverse order, Lupin was ineligible due to laws stating that a werewolf could not be the guardian of any non-were magical child. Mrs Longbottom and her husband were tortured into a catatonic state mere days after the deaths of your own parents. Coincidentally, this left their own son to be raised by the boy's paternal grandmother, the Dowager Longbottom. Finally, Sirius Black," here Snarlgip paused to rub at his wrinkled forehead, "Mr Black is currently imprisoned at the island prison of Azkaban. Due to my own belief that you were to go to him after your parents' deaths, I followed the story closely, and also gathered as much as I could on what happened. It seems, that after that night, Black and another of your parents friends, one Peter Petigrew, confronted each other in a muggle street that ended in the death of Petigrew and twelve muggles along with a giant hole being blown in the street. The Aurors found Black still there, laughing his head off, and carted him off. From what is implied, it was Black who betrayed your parents, though there is no evidence of this. After this, black is merely sent to Azkaban under the authority of Bartimus Crouch. After searching for a transcript and finding none, I determined that there had been neither an interrogation nor a trial."

"While this is rather shocking, I believe that I would like the truth. If, as you say, Black had no trial, others of his ilk may use this to get him pulled from Azkaban due to misconduct. The other posibility, no matter how improbable, is that Black is innocent. If you would send your findings to Amelia Bones asking her to investigate. If some were to hear that they had imprisoned an innocent man, as I believe him to be, they might do anything to make sure it never got out. So, can we do this while implying that I believe that Black is guilty and would prefer him dead so as to keep him alive long enough for him to get his trial." I suggested.

"Very cunning of you. Almost too cunning for one your age?" said Snarlgrip suspiciously.

"My identity was verified by blood before I could even meet with you, and you may run as many diagnostic magics that you know to determine if I am being controlled by outside sourses." I offer. Before a thought struck me, "Snarlgrip, if I wer to swear to be something I am not, like to swear I was a little girl, on pain of something benign, like thirty seconds of laughter, or even beneficial, like to be healed of some injury, would it work?"

"What do you mean, would it work?" asked Snarlgrip, confused.

"Well, I obviosly wouldn't want to swear on my life or magic, as breaking that oath would remove them from me. But say I were to swear something like 'I swear that I am a little girl on pain of turning blue for five seconds' would I then turn blue for the given time?"

"I do not know. But, for any oath to be fulfilled you must end it in the ritual phrase 'so mote it be.'" said Snarlgrip, "why don't you try the oath you just suggested and see if it works."

"Alright, let's do it." I say before taking a calming breath, "I swear that I am a little girl on pain of turning blue for five seconds, so mote it be." I sad with confidence.

I was briefly surrounded by a blue, then red aura. When the aura cleared, my skin was blue.

"Five, four, three, two, one." I counted down. As I finishe saying one, my skin returned to its proper tone. "Well, I think that works, but I think it can only do things that I am magically powerful enough to support." I suggest.

"Hmm, that may be so." said Snarlgrip, "Though you might add a time constraint to allow a gradual drain on your magic to accomplish something you could not in one go."

"Good idea, or if I were to be able to drain a larger source of magic to fuel it." I say, "though I would still have to watch how much magic would be required for the task so I do not channel more magic than my body could handle and burn myself out." I thought aloud.

"True, too bad such an option is not open to the goblin nation." said Snarlgrip, sounding truly dissapointed.

"Why is that?" I ask.

"With goblin magic, the greater the power of the oath, the more of your own blood you must spill without the aid of outside magics to replenish the lost blood."

"Ouch." I comment.

"Were you purposefully trying to distract me from my question?" asked Snarlgrip.

"No, not really." I admit, shrugging, "My mind is just rather random. But like I said, run any diagnostic magic you wish." I say, spreading my arms wide.

"I think I shall."

What followed was over an hour of spell after spell being cast on me to determine if I was being controlled. Or, like I had previously thought, I might be unintentionally possessing Harry Potter, or I might have actually become him. I was hoping for the latter.

Thankfully, my hopes were not in vain.

"It seems you are your own man Mr Potter." conceded Snarlgrip.

"No problem." I said, waving off any possible worry, "I have a rather strange mind. It doesn't really bother me that you thought I wasn't myself. I actually thank you for that, it means that my money and assets are secure in your hands. Oh, and since we are assured of each other, why don't you call me Harry."

"So I shall, Harry, thank you." said Snarlgrip, nodding in thanks.

"Would you mind me calling you Snarl, or just something shorter than Snarlgrip. It gets to be a bit of a mouthfull and I tend to get my tongue tied."

"Snarl would be fine. Though, if I may ask, how do you think you might mess up my name?"

"Oh, I don't know. I might have called you Snipgarl." I say, shrugging. At this, Snarl goes rather pale for a Goblin.

"I would not advise that."

"Why?"

"It would be like calling your son Snipdick."

"Oh, really?" I say, truly astonished before I break out into laughter. "Oh, that is rich, Snipdick." here, I snigger, "Snipdick."

"Precicely, Harry. I would be a laughing stock if that got out. So please keep that to yourlesf."

"Sure, though you have to admit it would make some pretty awesome blackmail material."

"I would hope that is not what you plan to do with that information." states Snarl threateningly.

"Nah, I'm circumcised. The term snipped dick would apply to anyone of that condition."

"You mean they cut it off?" Snarl said, shocked.

"No, not really you see, [**Censored: while this is not truly explicit, who wants to actually write about it? If you know what it is, you know what i'm talking about. :Censored**]

"Sweet maeve, you humans actually do that to your sons?"

"Only some of us. It is usually done for a religious reason." I state, "So, can we please move away from this topic. It's causing some shrinkage."

"Shrinkage?"

"Don't ask."

DING, came the chime from the Inbox.

"Ah, it seems that they have finally located everything." said Snarl, pulling a rather large packet with a small not atop. After reading the not Snarl spoke, "it seems that they have organized the items in such a way that all of the stolen items are at the top of the pile and organized by the thief." finished Snarl as he began to flip through the packet.

"So, who are the primary thieves, Snarl?"

"In order: Avery, Bulstrode, Crabbe, Diggle, Doge, Dumbledore, Dursley, Figg, Fletcher, Fudge, Goyle, LeStrange, Lockhart, Malfoy, Nott, Riddle, Rotwood, Scrimgour, Snape, Umbrage, Weasley, Yaxley, several businesses, and the Ministry."

"That is a rather long list, isn't it. So, how do we go about getting them back and punishing them for it." I ask.

"Well, as for retrieving what was stolen, I can send out teams to retrieve the stolen items." at my raised eyebrow he explained, "It is one of our few free services, partially because we help ourselves to anything else along the way."

"Nice. When can I expect progress on that front?"

"A few days at most. You never know, some of the items may be stored here."

"Alright, we've covered my guardianship, property theft, and injustice. Why don't we cover my assets and properties." I say, before thinking again, "you know what, nevermind, I can go through the ledger later. So, let's talk about the future of my finances."

"in what way?"

"Would you be willing to begin investing my money to a profitable end, in both the magical and mundane world. In the mundane world, I would like you to focus on technology companies and telecommunication companies. In the magical world, I would like a controlling interest in the media first, then I would like to move into the resource business. Besides that, follow what makes sense."

"That would be fine, so long as I received an appropriate commission." said Snarl, "Say, thirty percent of profit."

"What do you take me fore, some clueless, inbred, sorry excuse for a sapient being. No more than five percent."

"Why you theif, I would not work for anything less than fifteen."

"Seven."

"Twelve."

"Three."

"WHAT, you went back down. In fact you went lower than your original offer."

"I know, ain't it grand?"

"Fine, ten."

"Done."

"You are strange, lad." says Snarl. I giggle.

"So, do we have anything else to do?" I ask, "Like an inheritance test or something to determine what gifts and abilities I have. Oh, and I need to see a healer to see what can be done about fixing my body." I state, "Oh, and could you have someone chaeck to see if I am bound or tracked or monitored in any way."

"Yes, all of those ideas are good, should I call our resident healer to start wit the diagnostics. He should also be able to tell if there are any bindings on you. The inheritance and Blood-trait rituals will have to wait until you are healthy enough to withstand it and have any blocks or bindings removed."

"And how long do you think that will take?"

"We will know in a few minutes, when the healer gives us an idea." said Snarl. A moment later there was a knock at the door. "Enter" said Snarl. And so they did. In walked two healers, or at least that was my guess from the matching pastel green robes with a caduceus over their left breast.

"You called?" said the first to enter, a man that looked to be in his thirties. The second to enter was a woman that looked in her forties.

_And knowing the wizarding world, the man is probable mid forties, and the woman in her late fifties or early sixties._

"Yes, Healer Smith, Healer Jones, this is Mr Potter. He needs a full diagnosis. Both the upper reaches and the depths."(1)

"Right." said the two as they began to cast various spells over me.

"Upper reaches? Depths? What are those?" I ask, having an idea, but needing confirmation.

"The upper reaches refers to the physical body and the psyche, the depths refers to the magic and the soul."

"The soul? How often are their problems regarding the soul?" I ask.

"You would be surprised. Spells that effect how a person acts have a minor effect on the soul. Like a compulsion can be detected by its effect on both the soul and the mind." said The woman, who by the tag on her robe was healer Jones.

"Thank you for the explanation. Should we quiet down to let you work?" I ask.

"That would be nice." commented Jones.

"Then I can wait til you are done." I finish.

About five minutes later, minutes filled with me twiddling my thumbs and watching the steadily darkening faces of the two healers, they finally finished.

Jones collapsed into the only available chair, rubbing her temples. Smith began pacing angrily, muttering under hi breath.

"So, I take it the result is 'not good'?" I ask.

"Understatement of the century kid." said Smith angrily, "Do you know ho many broken bones you had?"

"No, I lost count." I admit.

"Yeah, I would have too. Especially since the only unbroken bone in your body is your third thoracic vertebra, and every limb along with most of the ribs have been broken multiple times I would have been astonished if you had been able to keep count." said Smith, sighing, "Kid, how are you still alive?"

"Magic." I say jokingly while doing jazz hands.

"The kid is right." said Jones, "His core is huge, even while bound. He has thirteen bindings on his core alone. There are several other blocks attuned to various magical talents that he has. Though a few of them seemed to be cracked slightly from sheer pressure."

"Really?" asked Smith. He received a quiet nod from Jones.

"So, what needs to happen to fix all of this shit?" I ask.

"Language." admonished Jones.

"Lady, I've just been told that someone took it upon themselves to bind my magic multiple times. I think I've earned the right to curse." I deadpan, "along with that, I've spent the past ten years of my life as the slave to my aunt and uncle. So, pardon my french, fuck off."

"I think I like you kid." said Smith, laughing his ass off, "you're the first person I've met that has been able to cuss at Jones and live."

"So, like I said, how do we fix it?"

"Well, the rituals to remove the block require a healthy body, so we have to work on that first." said Jones, turning to look at Smith.

"If you don't mind staying in an infirmary for a week, I can get you healthy enough for the rituals by then. After that, I can work on negating all of the abuse you've suffered. That will take about a month. A week of which will have to be spent in the infirmary so I can repair the bones. After that, it is mostly a potion regimen."

"So, Jones, what will it take to get rid of the blocks and bindings?" asked Snarl.

"Well, there was something in my scan that might interfere with the rituals. Give me a few days and I'll get back to you on that." she said.

"Right, so a week in the infirmary being subjected to who knows what." I say, resigned, "I'll need something to occupy myself with. Snarl, what can I access in the vaults? That reminds me, where are the key's to the vaults? Can we recall them?" I ask Snarl as Smith and Jones leave.

"Yes, that is quite easy." said Snarl. "Each Key has a recall function built in, in case of theft."

"Then let's recall them." I requested. Nodding, Snarl pressed a button on his in box and a moment later four keys appeared in the tray.

"Four?" I asked.

"Yes, one for your trust vault, one fro your mother's, one for the Potter vault, and one for the Potter Heirloom vault." informed Snarl.

"Ah, and which can I access?"

"The trust vault." said Snarl, "You can access your mother's at thirteen, and the other two at sixteen. Or, if you are emancipated, you would immediately gain access to all four."

"Alright, that's fine." I say. "One last thing before I head off to grab some gold and do some shopping. Wait, make that two things. First, I am sure that, due to my fame, some companies are using my name as advertising, let's make them pay for it. And the same for any books. Finally, is there some way I can access my money without coming down to the vault every time I run out of gold?"

"Yes, we offer a charmed money purse or wallet and something akin to a debit card for purchases in the muggle world. Would you like one?" asked Snarl.

"As long as I can withdraw either form of money from the wallet and the fees are waived." I say.

"Ah, an inteligent move. Though you must still pay for the initial cost of both, agreed?" said Snarl.

"Agreed." With that, Snarl pulled two forms from his desk and filled out certain portions.

"If you will sign in these places," said Snarl, pointing to several places on both forms, "and place a drop of blood in the box at the bottom." he said, offering a small blade to me to draw the blood. Signing where indicated and adding the requisite drops of blood, I handed them to Snarl, who placet them in the out box. In a flash, the forms were gone and in the in box was a black leather wallet and a black card with a silver G on the face.

"Thank you Honored Snarlgrip for your time."

"And thank you Mr Potter for your business." replied Snarl.

As I left Snarl's office, Griphook reappeared to guide me back to the lobby.

"There you are." said Vector as I entered the lobby. "What took so long?" she asked.

"I had to deal with several things. Mostly people stealing from me. I also underwent a medical scan." I said, "So, now that that is over, let's get shopping."

* * *

(1) I want to give credit where it is due, but I can't remember where I read this, so I'm just going to say it isn't my original idea, it was someone else's.

So, how'd you like it? R&R please.


	4. Shopping Pt1

Hey guys, i thought i was going to be able to pack the shopping trip into one chapter, but it looks like i might need to split it into two or three parts. Well, i hope you like it.

For disclaimer, see chapter 1

* * *

"Normal"

_Thought_

* * *

**Gringott's Lobby**

"Shopping?" said Vector, "How are you going to pay for it? We didn't go get any gold."

"The benefits of being rich." I said, pulling my wallet out and waving it at her. "Attuned to my magical signature and everything."

"Even if you are rich, you shouldn't spend your money frivolously." chided Vector.

"You wound me. I payed a measly seven galleons for this, and had all additional fees waived." I said, continuing out the great doors of Gringotts. "So, this might actually save me money in the long run. First stop, luggage." I said, walking to the luggage store I had spied on the way through the alley that morning.

"Wait up!" shouted Vector as she ran after me.

Arriving at the trunk store, Steamers & Beyond, I begin my perusal of their goods, evaluating with the fine eye of a master.

"Ahg, who am I kidding, they all look the same. Just different woods and fastenings and styles. Where is the information on each trunk? Or is it you choose the trunk and when you bring it to the counter they charm it how you want?" I ask the air.

"Yes," the air replied. Or maybe it was that guy leaning over my shoulder, "after you pick out the trunk you want, you bring it to me and I customize it as you like." said Creepy Old Man.

"Right, will do." I say, "Now, what is what?"

"Well, what do you want?" asked C.O.M.(Creepy Old Man)

"I want something durable, something that will last me til the day I die. Never want to have to buy another trunk for the rest of my life."

"Right. I have an Ironwood Steamer with Mythril fastenings that is covered and bound in the hide of a Ukrainian Ironbelly. Its outer dimensions are 50cm tall by 60cm wide by 100cm long. Guaranteed to last one-hundred years. So, young man, what features do you wish?" asked COM.

"First, what can we do with the inside?" I ask.

"Well, I can increase the internal volume by one-hundred fold, I can give you multiple compartments, each customizable to suit your needs. One compartment can be a library, one a potions lab, another a bedroom, a swimming pool, a prison cell, whatever you can think of." said COM, grinning creepily.

"Well, how about seven compartments. The first a 'public' storage, only expanded to triple the volume, charmed to keep it's contents from being damaged. Second, a library compartment, charmed to be a never ending bookshelf and to keep the books in peak condition. Third, a workstation, fit for potions, woodwork, leather-working, tinkering, and even metalworking. Fourth, a fully expanded room with mirrors on all four walls and a firm, yet padded, floor. Fifth, an office setup. The last two should be fully expanded with strong stasis spells, for storage. Everything charmed to reduce the weight." I outlined, "Good enough to start with. Let's get to the details. The first is self explanatory, if someone were to get in without permission, this will be all they see, no matter what they do to try to get into another compartment. The second should just appear to be a place to store books normally, but I should be able to scroll through what I have available. The third should be properly ventilated so that there is not a buildup of fumes, it should be durable. Two opposing walls should have workbenches, one unoccupied wall should contain a forge and necessary equipment for metalworking, the other wall should contain a storage cabinet for potions and their ingredients, charmed to protect them from everything. The fourth room should have a reinforced floor and should be made shock resistant, its four walls should have mirrors charmed against breaking. The fifth should be an office setup for a businessman, no wasted resources, efficient. The last two are basic, and to be made for mass storage, again, made to be kept in stasis. For the third, through seventh compartments there should be a ladder attached to a wall so that I can enter and exit them easily. Capiche?"

"Um, yeah? I think I got it. Just to check." said COM, holding out a small notebook that he had been scribbling in as I rattled off what I wanted.

"Yeah, that's about it." I affirm, handing him his notes back, "Oh, what about a featherlight charm? Or does that go on the outside?" I ask.

"Outside." COM answered, "Now, on to the exterior. So, what do you want?" he said, preparing to write down my requirements.

"Well, featherlight, of course. Weather resistant. Um, security, let's see." I say, rubbing at my non-existent goatee, "a dial set into the locking mechanism for me to select which compartment, warded to unlock only to my magical signature and a password, notice-me-not ward, shrinkable on command, hum." I pause, "what can you do about appearance? Like adding details, engravings or inscriptions?" I ask.

"Practically anything." was the reply.

"So, I want the Potter crest on the front, and the initials H J P on the front of the lid in black."

"P-p-p-potter?" said COM, "YOU are Harry Potter?" COM all but shouted.

"Yeah, what of it?" I ask, disinterested.

"I can't believe it, Harry Potter, in MY shop. Oh happy day." COM looked to begin dancing any moment.

"Yes, I am Harry Potter." I interrupt, "Now that you have what I want, how long until you are done and I can pick it up?"

"Oh, I'll make it my top priority, I'll have it done in two hours." said COM.

"While I thank you for that, please don't rush and make any mistakes please."

"oh, don't worry about that Mr Potter, I'll make sure to stay focused." said COM, "See you in two hours."

"Right, see you." I said as I left the shop.

"Not what I expected to happen." Said Vector, who had done a good job at remaining unnoticed at the shop.

"Well, we have two hours till we have to be back there. How about we go for my wand and then have lunch before heading back." I suggest.

"Ah, yes good idea." said Vector as she began to lead me to Ollivander's.

_I wonder what wand I will get? Will it matter that my psyche is different than that of the original Harry? Or is the match determined by the 'taste' or 'flavor' of my magic? For that matter, how has my being in this body affected it?_ I pondered as we entered the shop,

"Ah, Mr Potter, I've been waiting for you." said a voice from behind me. Thankfully, some quirk of my personality makes it nearly impossible to startle me from behind.

"Hello, sir. Did I keep you waiting long?" I asked as I watched him come to stand before me. The thought that Ollivander might be a Legillimens struck me just then, so I started thinking of the last movie I had seen before my trip diagonally through time and space.

"Not at all, child. Thank you though." said Ollivander, "Now, which is your wand arm?"

"My right, sir." I reply, raising said arm, palm up.

"Ah, yes." said the old man as he began to measure my arm, and other things. "I remember when your father came in here. . ." he began. Not really interested, I let my mind wander over the contents of the store. It was rather dusty, which was strange as one sweep of the wand could probably clean it all up. There was nothing on the long counter that separated the back of the store from where they were currently. Looking to check the walls to the side, I saw that they were mostly bare. The only decoration was a license to do business that looked to be several centuries old.

At this point I heard that Vectors wand was made from vine-wood, twelve and a quarter inches, containing hairs from the forelock of a unicorn mare, a particularly old one at that. It seems her wand is given to more intellectual pursuits. And finally came the time to begin testing wands. It went along like the books, nothing matched. Finally, a good forty-five minutes after we began, he pulled out the canon wand. Holly with phoenix feather, eleven inches, brother wand to Voldie's. Taking it in my hand, I waited.

Nothing. _So it seems that me being here has affected my magic._ I thought.

Ollivander practically glared at the wand in my hand before snatching it up, muttering about how he was sure he had it that time. And so the process began again.

After a hour and twenty minutes, or four-hundred-seventy-three wands, we finally hit the jackpot.

"Hawthorn, Hippogriff pinion core, thirteen inches, firm." said Ollivander.

"What specialties?" I asked.

"It has none." said Ollivander before correcting himself, "That is to say that it is equally strong in all fields of magic, even opposing fields. It is also quite powerful, that combination of wood and core seem to react strongly together." summarized Ollivander.

"Hm, makes sense." I said quietly.

"How so, Mr Potter?" asked Ollivander, genuinely confused and curious.

"Well, the hawthorn tree symbolizes, among other things, contradiction and relationships, while the hippogriff symbolizes impossibility and romance. . ." I trailed off, letting him draw his own conclusions.

"Well, that will be six galleons Mr Potter." said Ollivander as he retrieved the wand from my hand to box it up.

"Do you have Wand Polish?" I ask.

"Ah yes, good idea. That will be twelve sickles." said Ollivander as he retrieved a jar from behind the counter.

"Got any holsters back there?"

"No, sorry, you'll find those at The Poor Shoemaker, down by the Cauldron." he said as I was paying.

"Right, thanks fir the info." I say as I turn to leave. Opening the door we head out.

"So, quick lunch at the Cauldron then a wand holster before picking up the trunk." I suggest. Vector just seems to nod and follow along.

"Hey, Prof. Vector, why have you been so quiet?" I ask.

"Well, you really seem to know what you're doing, and I'm trying to figure out why you are so mature." admitted Vector.

"Well, I know what I need on the trip, besides just what is on the list, and I am decent at planning ahead when I need to, so I guess that is why I seem to know what I'm doing." I offer, "As to why I am so mature, well, I've heard this analogy before and I think it fits. I've been 'tested in the fires of life' or something like that. Just like a smith will heat and temper a his steel, so I have been tempered." I state.

"That was a little above what you should know." said Vector.

"Eh, I read it somewhere. In the bible I think." I said, "It was one of the few books that the Dursleys wouldn't take from me when I was reading." I pause, "The only book they didn't take, I think."

"The Bible?" asked Vector.

"A religious text. A proper one weighs about three kilos." I said, "Probably read the whole thing a few times, in bits and pieces mind you, and almost never in order." I informed her.

"And do you conform to this religion?" she asked.

"No. If I do, I essentially damn myself to hell." I answer.

"Why is that?"

"The God of that religion doesn't like those who practice magic. I believe the words are 'suffer not a witch to live.'" I said as we walked in through the back door of the Cauldron.

"Oh." said Vector.

"Let's sit at the bar." I said, walking over to said location. In my peripheral vision I saw Vector shrug and follow. Sitting down, I waited for Tom to approach.

"Hello there, what can I do for you?" asked Tom from behind me. Turning some, making sure to keep my identity secret as much as possible, I address Tom.

"Yeah, how about just a quick sandwich and some water." I state.

"And you Ma'am?" asked Tom of Vector.

"The same."

As Tom walked off, I began my interrogation of her.

"So, what is Hogwarts like? And don't sugarcoat it." I ask.

"Well, the students are divided into four houses: Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin." she began. "Each house is made up of those with certain traits. For Gryffindor, the traits are bravery, chivalry, and courage. For Ravenclaw they are intelligence and a thirst for knowledge for its own sake. Hufflepuff's are hard work and loyalty. Slytherin's are cunning and ambition." she summarized.

"Alright, now, what are the common views on each house?" I prompt.

"Gryffindors are thought to blindly rush into danger. They are also believed to be inherently Light. Ravenclaws are seen as being bookworms, only good at academics, nothing else. Hufflepuffs are seen as near squibs, those with no talent. Slytherin is seen as the house of Dark wizards in training. It is also the home of the purebloods." said Vector. "Hecate have mercy on any muggleborn to end up in there, they'll be dead in a month."

"So you believe them capable of murder?"

"Some of them. Others might just see it at killing an animal, or as a sport." she shuddered. "But, there are some who are neutral. Those are about the only Slytherins you should ever interact with."

"Alright, so, how about the teachers and head?"

"Alright, let's start with Dumbledore. He is seen as the modern day Merlin, leader of the Light, and several other titles. He sets himself up as an eccentric grandfather, and everybody seems to treat his word as law." she says, clearly placing herself outside of that group. "I don't know why, but he has always just seemed off to me, like I shouldn't trust what I see."

"Next."

"Next is MacGonagall, the deputy head, head of Gryffindor, and Transfiguration teacher. She is a strict taskmaster who believes the headmaster to be infallible." said Vector, "She also has a massive temper. Next is Severus Snape, the head of Slytherin and potions teacher. He is massively biased towards his own house and against Gryffindor. I have heard some students say that they have learned more about potions on their own outside of class than they did in it. The head of Ravenclaw is Filius Flitwick. He is a diminutive man who is easily excited. Besides that I have only heard good about him as a teacher, a head of house, and as a person. The head of Hufflepuff is Pomona Sprout, the Herbology teacher. She is the embodiment of the house, loyal and hardworking to a fault. If you are ever in the need of a shoulder to cry on, go to her. On another note, if you notice any sort of regular abuse going on, she has a long lasting and vicious temper when one of her students are threatened. So, if you don't get placed into Hufflepuff, try to make yourself an honorary member. Work hard, be loyal, and be a good friend to others." she finished with the Heads. She was about half finished with her sandwich by this point, I had finished mine. "Now, among the other teachers, bring a pillow to history of magic, everyone sleeps through it and the teacher just quotes the book. For astronomy, Aurora Sinistra just seems to fade into the background, so, just be a good student. For Defense, I have no clue as we get a new teacher every year and most of us don't meet them until the week before term starts. Now, the last few are the teachers for the electives. Trelawney, the Divination teacher, is a hack and a fraud. Burbage, the muggle studies teacher is a clueless pureblood with no idea of what the muggle world is like. Kettleburn, the care of magical creatures teacher, is a good, but accident prone teacher. He is currently missing seven fingers and four toes. The runes teacher, Babbling, is thorough, she loves her subject and loves to teach it. Then there is me, the arithmancy teacher. If I see you sacking off in my class, I kick you out." she finished, both her description and her meal. Placing our money on the counter, we head back into the alley. As we walk over to the Shoemaker, I see that it is more of a leather goods store.

Walking in, I start browsing the shelves. I see shoes, boots, aprons, belts, gloves, bracers, cloaks, saddles, crops, whips, scabbards, and holsters. Walking up to the counter, I ask if they do custom orders.

"Yeah, kid. We do customs. Whatchu want?" asks the man behind the counter, a rather homely man.

"Could I get a pair of bracers, one with a wand holster, the other with a small knife sheath." I ask.

"Yeah, that's pretty basic, what else you want?" asks Homely.

"A pair of boots, all four items charmed to gradually get heavier."

"Why d'you want that?"

"Training."

"Not sure I can do that kid."

"If you can't, don't bother. I can do without." I say.

"Right kid. Come back for em tomorrow." he says.

"In the mean time, could I get a holster?" I ask.

"Yeah, four galleons." says the man. Nodding, I hand over the money. He reaches behind the counter and retrieves a holster, handing it to me. After taking it from the man, I strap it to my left forearm and place my new wand into it. Thanking the man, we turn to leave.

"See you tomorrow kid." he says, waving me off.

"Now to get my trunk." I say to Vector as we head back down the alley to Steamers & Beyond. As we enter, I see COM standing proudly, but tired, over my trunk.

"Right on time Mr Potter. Here's your trunk. Just let me set you up with the lock." he says, "Just press your thumb to the lock and I'll finish it up. There is a manual in the first compartment." he says as he begins to mutter and made a few gestures with his wand. "Right, all done."

"And how much to I owe you?" I ask, already reaching for my wallet.

"No Mr Potter, it's on me." says COM. Now, I don't like charity or gifts of any kind. It makes me feel like I owe them something.

"I can't accept that. How about this. Since you want to just give it to me, how about I pay what it cost you to make it." I offer.

"If you really won't accept it for free, I guess that will work." he says, "The whole thing cost me about 150 galleons. That okay with you?" he asks.

"That's fine." I say as I get the amount from my enchanted wallet. Handing it to the man, I thank him for his work. Opening the first compartment, I pull out the manual and flip to the part about the shrink feature. Nodding, close the trunk, pull my wand from its holster, and tap the crest on the front. Pocketing the now shrunken trunk, we leave the store.

"So, books next? Or robes?" I ask Vector.

"Robes." she answers. I nod in assent before walking towards Malkin's.

Entering the store, I see that it is mostly empty of customers. Save a sandy blonde fourth year boy.

"Ah, deary, another for Hogwarts then?" asks an older woman, I assume that it as Malkin. Directing it more to vector than to me. I nod anyways.

"Yes." replies Vector simply. Nodding, Malkin hustles me up to stand on a stool beside the fourth year.

"Hi," begins the boy, "the name's Cedric Diggory." he says, offering his hand.

"Harry," I reply, shaking his hand.

"Got a last name?" teases Cedric.

"Why, I believe I do. It's around here somewhere." I say as I begin to pat down my clothing as if I am looking for some lost item. "Aha!" I shout, reaching my hand into a pocket and pulling out an imaginary slip of paper. "This says I am Harrison Oswald Greensboro IV. Wait, that's not right." I say, before flipping said imaginary item over. "Ah, here it is. This side says I am Harry James Potter."

By the time I had pulled the imaginary slip of paper from my pocket, Cedric was laughing. When I said the first name, he began clutching his sides he was laughing so hard. When I finally said my name, he practically choked.

"Really?" he asked, still trying to recover from his coughing fit.

"What do you think?" I ask as I reveal the scar on my forehead.

"Wow," he said, seemingly speechless.

"Let me ask you this, why am I such a big deal?" I asked him.

"Huh, what do you mean?" he asked, puzzled.

"Well, I don't think that my surviving the killing curse should give me this kind of long lasting fame." I said, "So, what were you told about me growing up that has such a huge impact on you?"

"Well, it started out as bed time stories my folks told about you. Later there were books that came out that told of all the neat stuff you did growing up." said Cedric.

"Um, neat stuff?" I asked him, _I don't like where this is going. Please don't tell me someone has been writing books about me as some sort of child superhero._

"Yeah, my favorite one is where you protected a nest of dragon's eggs from poachers." he said, clearly expecting me to know what he was talking about.

"Well, I'm pretty sure those are all lies." I told him, "I've spent my time out of the public eye being treated like a slave." I continued, "You know, expected to do the work of five full grown men and fed a fifth of what I should eat, no medical treatment when injured, frequent beatings, that kind of stuff." I told him.

"What!" he shouted, "There's no way that's how you were treated. Who raised you?"

"Yes, that is how I was treated." I said, sighing mentally, "And I was raised by my mother's magic hating muggle sister and her magic hating husband. Get the picture?" I asked.

"What, no way." he said, defeated. "Why were you put there?" he asked, finally believing me.

"I don't know why, but I know who did it." I answered.

"Who?"

"You wouldn't believe me." I answered truthfully.

"Yeah I would."

"No, you seriously wouldn't. You've been raised your entire life to believe that he can do no wrong. That whatever he wants is for the best." I answered, hoping he would guess Dumbledore, that would show that he could believe he was capable of such actions.

"Huh?" Cedric asked, well, it was more a questioning grunt, but whatever.

"Can you think of anyone with the authority to seal a will, as in last will in testament, to appoint himself as my guardian, to place me wherever he wanted, even if the person he asked to place me there had serious doubts, and get away with it all?" I asked.

"Um, no, not really." Cedric answered.

"sigh, never mind." I say. Malkin finally shows up with an assistant. Malkin goes over to work with Cedric while the assistant comes to work with me. She looked to be eighteen, had shoulder length chestnut hair, was rather pretty, and a passing resemblance to Madam Malkin.

"Hello, I'm Marilyn Malkin, but you can just call me Marie." offered Marie, "Now, grandma said you're starting Hogwarts this year?"

"Yes, I am. And my names Harry." I said, giving her a short little bow.

"So do you only need the uniform?" Marie asked.

"No, I need everything." I answered, "As you can see, from what I am wearing, I've got little to nothing to wear." I told her, "So your help in selecting a proper wardrobe would be most appreciated." this seemed to startle her a little, as if she had just noticed how poor and ratty my clothes were. _That doesn't make any sense, she is a clothier, half of her focus should be on clothes. Hell, it's probably one of the first things she looks at when meeting a person. So why didn't she notice?_

"Now, why would you be wearing that?" she asked.

"My relatives don't like me." I answered.

"But why would they buy you such clothes?" she asked again.

"They have never once bought me anything," I paused, "Even my glasses, which they took from a lost and found bin."

"What horrible people." she said, obviously shaken.

"Well, how about we correct that." I said, holding my arms out, "Want to get started?"

"Yeah." she said firmly before taking out a measuring tape and a clipboard before setting to work. As soon as she had measured something with the tape, the proper measurement would appear on the clipboard. Soon, she had all of the measurements that she needed. Some of the measurements were a bit strange to me, like the circumference of my thigh, where she had to place her hands quite close to the family jewels. Now, don't get me wrong, in a few years I'd probably be flirting with her, but now it would just be creepy.

"Any ideas on what colors you want for your other clothes?" she asked.

"I'm fine with most colors, but please stay away from bright or light colors." I say, "I have no problem with color, I just like them to be in darker hues and to be more subtle."

"Alright, I'll keep that in mind." said Marie, "Any other restrictions?" she asked.

"Nope, Just cut loose." _I know I will come to regret those words._

"Alright, just let me fit you for your Hogwarts robes and then I'll get to work." she said, and then set words to action. Grabbing a nearby Hogwarts robe of an appropriate size, she began to work. Pinning up arias to be taken in, marking where things were to be with chalk. All the while keeping up a constant stream of talk between us. Some of it on ideas for my wardrobe, other bits talk about Hogwarts and life there, and others still on what she would do to the Dursleys if she ever met them. A thought occurred to me.

"Hey, Marie, for my non-Hogwarts stuff, could we go with a more tunic-and-leggings look. I don't really like the look or feel of these robes." I say, making gestures to myself.

"Actually, that might be a good idea." commented Marie.

"Why is that?" I ask.

"Well, people with a more active lifestyle usually complain about the robes wrapping themselves around their legs and tripping them up, so with the tunic and leggings they won't have that problem." said Marie.

"How about this, just set me up with my Hogwarts robes today, and tomorrow I'll come back and we can go over this in more detail. That way, when some of those active types come in you can already have patterns set up for them to look at."

"Good idea Harry, let's do that." said Marie as she finished marking and pinning my robes. Looking at the marks and concentrating, she casts a spell at the robe I am wearing. Immediately the robe I am wearing melds together in the places she had marked to fit me perfectly. "Right, let's go through the motions, to see if it fits right." after a few minutes of bending, swinging, flexing, sitting, standing, etc. she finally gave a nod of approval before casting the same spell at the stack of robes beside me. It was subtle, but I noticed the robes tightening in the same way as the one I was wearing had.

"Neat." I comment.

"Yeah." said Marie, "So, see you tomorrow. Say, around one."

"Yeah, let's go." I say as I begin to pull the robe off. "Oh, hey," I say after I finally get it off, "Can you do that same thing to make these clothes fit better?" I ask.

"Yeah, good idea." said Marie as she put action to words. The tents I was previously wearing now fit comfortably, even if they were rather ratty.

"Thanks Marie." I said, "How much for the robes?"

"23 galleon 8 sickles." rattled off Marie quickly, she obviously had to do this often.

"Right," I said as I pulled the correct amount from my wallet. After handing her the money I pull my shrunken trunk and my wand out. Setting the trunk on the ground I tap it with my wand to enlarge it. Once the trunk was full size I opened it up and put my Hogwarts robes in the first compartment. At this time I heard a gasp. Turning to look at Marie, the one to make the noise, I see her with one hand held in front of her mouth and the other pointing to the crest on my trunk.

"Y-y-y-y-yo-your Harry Potter?" she stuttered out in a harsh whisper. I just smile before closing the trunk and shrinking it again.

"See you tomorrow Marie. Have fun." I say, waving over my shoulder as I leave.

* * *

AN/ So, how'd you guys like it? Be sure to R&R


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